


Figments

by LostAndFoundLenore



Category: jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Asylum, Death, Eventual Romance, F/M, Ghosts, Paranormal, Romance, Schizophrenia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-18 07:21:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10612005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostAndFoundLenore/pseuds/LostAndFoundLenore
Summary: Welp.Here I was again. Another day, Another padded white cell...Okay, well, it wasn't THAT bad. Sure, I was stuck in another asylum, a crippled old shit hole out in the middle of a forest somewhere. Nothing new. Except for the fact that people seem to be disappearing, and....for some reason.....something just doesn't seem right. Something about the place is off. And this time, I won't let myself stay clueless.





	1. Pine Ridge Asylum

Nothing about coming into a new asylum is easy. I mean, there's the paperwork, the transferring the patient, the room and board and the expenses...yadda yadda yadda.

But the hardest part? Actually BEING the patient and being shoved into another shit hole with brand new psychos. 

And that's exactly what was happening to me right now. 

\--------------------------------------------------

"Alright Scheffer, you gonna play nice this time?" I was presently stuffed into the back of a sort of makeshift ambulance, my hands zip-tied together, tears streaming down my face. I had been transferred AGAIN, because my cheap-ass grandmother couldn't bare to actually pay for my stay at Lily Valley Asylum. It had been nice, kind people, sort-of kind patients, and even edible food. But now, I was being shipped to Pine Ridge asylum, a dark and dingy place that patients only heard about in horror stories from nurses who had worked there in the past. 

"When have I been anything but?" I glared up at the nurse that had previously shoved me into the back of the van. He had been rough, but I couldn't really blame him. I had gone kicking and screaming, biting and scratching. Anything to try and delay the terrible trip to loony bin hell. It hadn't worked though, and now I could see the ominous and angry brick building outside the back door. 

"Ohhh man. Cut the attitude. You won't last a day in here if you keep it. Don't say I didn't ever help you, kid." He climbed out of the van and I followed suit, not wanting to find out what another fit would cost me. Especially here. 

Now that I was outside, I could see the expanse of the large estate, and it was BIG. And by big, I meant massive. The hot sun beat down on the brick walls, causing heat waves to float lazily away from the building. It almost looked like a prison, all of the windows were barred, and the dead bushes that lined the front added to the ambiance. Dread pooled in my stomach like lead, and I swallowed hard. That's exactly what it was. A prison. Oh god.

"Alright, c'mon girl. It's time to get you registered." I hesitated, and it actually took the nurse shoving me forward to get me to go towards the large front door. We were greeted at the entrance by a security guard, a stout man dressed in a cheap looking cop-like costume. 

"What do we have here?" The nurse handed a packet of paperwork and an ID to the beaty-eyed man, who looked at both and clucked his tongue while he flipped through the pages. "Another schizophrenic, huh?" He chuckled, and it resembled something close to a kitten being thrown into a blender. "She ever killed anybody?" 

At first I thought he was joking, and I couldn't believe that the bastard would actually JOKE about that kind of thing, especially in front of a patient. But then I realized he was actually serious, and I didn't know what was worse...were there people in here that have actually _killed_ other people? I shook my head and looked at the ground, silently cursing my grandmother to hell for making me go to a government-run asylum with actual murderers. She probably knew that too, that she was sending me to violent place where I was surely going to get hurt. What a motherfucker...

"Alright, she's good to go. Go ahead and take a right when you get inside, and make a left at the end of that hall. The registration desk will be right in front of ya." The guard slapped the papers back into the nurse's hand, and I could tell that he was flustered about the comment too, shaking his head as he put his hand on my shoulder to guide me into the building. 

As soon as we stepped inside, the doors behind us clicked mechanically, and I was assuming that it was an automatic lock system to keep whatever was inside, well, inside. I had never had that before. Although, I had never been to a place like this, and I never thought I would be. 

I glanced around as we walked down the hall, and you could tell that the place was old. The cement walls were covered in chipped paint, hard fluorescent lights angrily buzzing overhead. The floors were plain tile, but multiple stains were splattered about. I didn't want to think what had caused them, or why they had actually stained the hard tile surface in the first place. 

We took a left at the end of the hall like the guard had said, and sure enough, a few feet ahead was a small wooden desk with a woman sitting behind it, eyeing us as we approached. 

"Hello. Papers?" Her clipped tone was dull, and it matched her face, dull and boring. I wondered if she hated it here? She must not have very many coworker friends if she had to sit up here all day and take in admitted patients. The nurse placed the papers on the desk, and the woman peered through her glasses and down the bridge of her nose. "...mhmmm....mhmmm, okay. Yes. Joselyn Scheffer?" She glanced up at me.

"Yes." I hadn't realized it, but I was shaking, nervous as hell and also pretty damn scared. Where did I go after this?

"Alright, well, I'll call our nurses up, and they can take her from here. Just a moment." She picked up the phone on her desk and pressed a few buttons with one long bony finger, taking her time to make sure each one clicked loudly enough for the next county over to hear. I could hear a phone ringing on the other end, and then a low voice mumbled something into her ear. "Mmmm...yes. We have a Scheffer here for you to take back." The voice said something and chuckled, which in turn made the receptionist snort. "Well, yeah. No. She's not a violent one. At least not right now. You need to take her to the B-ward and get her situated. Okay? Yes. Okay." She hung up and looked back up at me, a slight sneer smooshing her lips to the side. 

"She's...she's not going to be put where the uh....where the criminally insane are....is she?" The nurse piped up. He sounded just as nervous as I felt, but I was grateful for him asking the question. At least someone was concerned about me. 

"Oh...no. She'll be with others that are...on her level. Unless she decides to misbehave. Then she'll be with people who have also misbehaved. It's how they learn their lesson." 

I looked down at my bound hands, contemplating jumping over the desk and strangling the woman for how she spoke....on my level? What was my level? What did that even  _mean?_

"Okay..alright." The nurse said something under his breath, and I was pretty sure it was some sort of prayer. Goddammit. 

I could hear two voices come into range, and when I looked up I saw two bulky nurses in blue scrubs stomping down the hallway while they talked. Why weren't these guys outside being the guards? They looked like fucking body-builders with a steroid addiction. Once they got close enough, they eyed me up, and I could tell they had been expecting someone a lot worse. I frowned, a little frightened by how everyone was acting here. What little faith I had that this was going to at least be a bearable experience was depleting fast. Were these men just the run-of the mill nurses here? I was really hoping not. 

"Alright, we'll escort her to the back." I looked at the nurse who had unconsciously been gripping my shoulder way too tight and the expression on his face said it all. He looked me straight in the eyes and tried to be reassuring.

"It'll be fine kid. Good luck." With that, he turned around and left, and I could tell it was taking all he had to walk slowly and normally. Looking back at the nurses in front of me, I took a deep breath. This was going to be the beginning of a long, long journey.

"Alright  _kid_. Let's get you to ward B."

 

 


	2. Ward B

I walked, still bound at the wrists might I add, in front of the two nurses who were currently escorting me to 'ward B'. I kept my eyes trained straight ahead as we got further into the building, turning left, then turning right, and then left again. I didn't want to look into the rooms that lined the walls, afraid of what I might see. The appearance of the hallway was enough to make me a little nauseous. The ceilings had brown splotches blotted across the cheep tiling, matching that of the floor, and some of the lights were flickering. I swore to god that this must be a trick, some sort of sick gag that they pulled on new patients to scare them. Surely the rest of the building didn't look this shitty? Right?

 

Wrong.

 

We kept going deeper and, unfortunately, the place stayed dark and gloomy, disgusting even. The nurses were silent as they guided me, and not soon enough, we showed up at a desk behind a glass wall. Another huge nurse was behind it, reading a newspaper with his feet up on the desk. 

"Hey! Billy!" The lounging nurse jumped at his name, and slammed the newspaper down, not amused with his friend's bark. His eyes fell on me and he smiled....kindly? I mean, he was trying to be...I think. "We gotta Scheffer here. You gonna show her to her room?" 

"Yeah, but you gotta stay here for me ya jerk. You scared the shit outta me." He got up and exited the little glass box, grabbing onto my arm. It shocked me at first, how he touched me so nonchalantly. Any other place that I had been, the nurses took care to respect the space of a patient, unless they were getting out of hand. My heart jumped up into my throat at the gesture, and the feeling of violation made me shiver a little, while all I could picture in my head was being tossed around like a sad little rag doll.

"Yeah yeah. Don't slack again. Boss'll have your ass." Billy waved him off and yanked at my arm, making me stumble forward. He pulled a small card out of his scrub pocket and waved it in front of a light panel next to the heavy metal door right outside of his glass office. A loud beep echoed down the hallway behind us and the door clicked open with an ominous clanking noise. He yanked on my arm again and I tumbled behind him as he pulled me down the hallway. If I was a mild patient, I feared for the people who were seriously messed up to the point where they couldn't be on their own. I was assuming I was going to be meeting people like that at some point, and I could only imagine that they had to be covered in bruises and welts from the strong hands of the monstrous nurses....but I guess that's why they were the nurses...because they could hold down people who had to be locked up. 

As soon as we passed the first few doors, I could hear a couple of yells and screams, and someone thought something was really funny, because they were laughing hysterically. The sound sent shivers up my spine...and I realized that I kind of wanted to vomit. A few more moments and I was brought to a room with an open door and Nurse Billy shoved me into it, flicking on a light so I could see. Inside the dimly lit room was a metal bed frame with a thin gray mattress on top and there was also a small desk and chair to the left, a sad little toilet and faucet in the corner directly to my right. Everything except for the mattress was just so.... _white_. The resemblance to a horror movie set was unbelievable. 

"So this is your room. Any questions?" I turned back around and glared at Billy, holding my zip-tied hands up. 

"Uh, can you get rid of this?" It took him a moment, but he smiled and shook his head, his cheeks getting red.

"Aw, naw. I can't sweetheart. Not until you see Dr. Fischbach."

"Fair enough. When will that be?" Ah, the resident Doctor. He was gonna be a real character, wasn't he?

"In about twenty minutes." With that, he slammed the door shut, the sound reverberating off the cement walls, violating my ears. Once the sound subsided, the screams and the laughing came through the door, muffled, but loud. I took a shaky breath, wishing I had tried to hold a longer conversation with Billy.This was going to be rough. 

I meandered around the room for a moment, examining the desk a little closer. There were a few things etched into the old painted wood, and I had to squint in the dim light to see them better. There were the classic tally marks, a few smiley faces and what I was assuming was a poorly shaped dick. At least the last guy who was in here was somewhat of a comedian., or I guess he could have been a pervert, which didn't help me feel any better.

I went and sat down on the bed, immediately painfully aware of how thin the mattress was when the springs underneath pushed up against my tailbone. After they realized I wasn't too far off the deep end, were they going to put me in a better room, maybe one with an actual bed? Oh, who was I kidding, I wasn't going to get squat. Except for maybe a few really fucked up hallucinations and some sort of panic attack. They always got worse when I was....scared. And if things kept progressing the way they were, I was going to be ripping my hair out and cringing in the corner by sundown. I wouldn't know when that would be though, because there was no damn window in my new room, save for the small one at the top of the door.

If anything, the twenty minutes I had to wait for the doctor to come and meet me seemed to turn into hours, and that was if I still had the right perception of time. Finally, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in." As if I had a choice to say go away.

Now, as I had laid there, I had tried to picture how nasty this doctor was going to be. I was expecting a hunched over old man, cranky and unforgiving. That's what all doctors were like, and surely, a place like this would at least have that, if not something worse.

But ohhhhh, was I wrong. 

A man, a young man, maybe in his late twenties, peaked around the door before sliding in completely. He was dressed in a nicely fitted button down and dress pants, but somehow he seemed to make it look casual. It was evident that he worked out, the sleeves of his shirt pushed up and tight on his arms, his chest broad and strong. His dark hair was full and slightly messy, the front of it falling down to the side in a very modern style. It was hard not to notice his strong jaw, along with his full lips...and....oh god. Who was I kidding? This guy...er...doctor, was really, really, _attractive_. 

"Hello." He smiled, revealing perfect, white teeth, his eyes framed by a pair of modest glasses. I sat there in awe for a moment, and then realized that I should probably say something.

"Hi."

"I'm Doctor Fischbach, but you can call me Mark...uh...forgive me...?" He glanced down at the clipboard he had in his hand, squinting as he searched for my name.

"Joselyn. Scheffer." _forgive me?_ Wait....was this guy being polite? Was this soap opera-worthy doctor actually treating me like a human being with feelings?

"Right, Joselyn. It's nice to meet you. I apologize for not knowing your name. I've been running around all day, and I barely had a chance to look at your paperwork." He started flipping through the pages, squinting his eyes again as he pulled the small wooden chair away from my new desk to sit down.

"...It's okay." It was a surprise that he had even tried to learn my name. I had had doctors completely skim over the fact that I was called something, only worried about the fact that I saw things that weren't there, which, I mean, I guess that was the point, but still. I was pleasantly surprised to say the least.

"So, it says here that you have mild to severe schizophrenia. How long have you had that diagnosis?" He looked up at me, his mouth slightly open in a patient expression, as if were were just having coffee, talking about how our days went at work. Was this actually the doctor? Or some really convincing patient that managed to escape his cell? Even then, that would be kind of amusing.

"About 3 years. It's only been really bad the last year though. That's when I went to my first psych ward."

"I see. And what symptoms do you experience, Joselyn?" He pulled a pen out of his pocket and clicked it, scribbling something down on the clipboard.

"Well, I have hallucinations, I hear some things, and I have mood swings every now and then. At first my family thought I only had bipolar disorder, but then the hallucinations became more prominent... and well, they sent me away." He nodded his head, still writing.

"What do you hallucinate?" Oh boy. That was a dangerous question. Should I lie?.... I decided that yes. Yes I should.

"Um...animals, people, shapes, splotches of color...." That sounded like the run of the mill schizo, right? I knew that I couldn't be too severe with him yet, or else I was sure I'd end up somewhere worse. He seemed really nice though. Once again, not what I was expecting. 

"Oh, wow. That's pretty mild. They said you get violent very rarely, but still." He looked at me over his glasses, smirking a little. Okay, so he knew I was lying. That was stupid on my part, to think that would have worked when he had my whole medical history right in front of him.

I just looked down at my hands and shrugged. I could hear his pen wildly scratching against the clipboard, what the hell could he be writing? He had been talking to me for all of what? Two minutes? I started to feel even more uneasy, the same shivers returning from before.

"You are on 3 anti-psychotics and a mood stabilizer, is that correct?"

"Yes." He nodded, wrote one last thing down, and clicked his pen once more. Oh god. He thought I was over the cuckoo's nest. 

Usually, that didn't bother me. Everyone thought that. But for some reason, I was embarrassed this time. I really didn't want this man, this guy who was around my age, to think that I was....I don't know. I didn't want him to look down on me. I decided to chalk it up to the fact that he was pretty much my age, and that he was gorgeous enough to be an underwear model.  

"Alright Joselyn. It was very nice meeting you. I'm going to make sure I get everything straightened out with your meds and that you get a pillow and some blankets. You seem to be mild enough that I can trust you with those things. Am I right?" He stood up, tucking his pen back into his shirt pocket, smiling. 

"Yes." 

"Good. I'll be back to see you tomorrow. We'll start your counseling then. I'm truly sorry for such a hasty introduction, but they have me on rounds in three different wards tonight. It's not usually like this." 

He held out his hand for me to shake. I hesitated and then held up my hands, still synched together by the zip-tie. He looked confused for a moment, and then a disappointed frown spread across his face.

"Oh my god. I'll have the nurse remove that. How stupid." _Yeah, you're tellin' me, buddy._

"Thank you, actually." I sighed a breath of relief, hoping that Billy would be willing to do so. Mark gave me a thumbs up, pausing in the doorway before he left.

"It was nice meeting you Joselyn." With one last handsome smile, he disappeared, leaving the door to slam shut again, another echo pounding into my ears. Was everyone going to do that? 

 


	3. Bumps in the Night

When I was little, I had this game I would play in my room at night, when I couldn't fall asleep. I was a meek little girl, afraid of the dark and so many other things at the time. Instead of searching for consolation from my nasty grandmother, I told myself that the monsters under my bed were just there for a tea party. That every little eerie sound I heard was just them clanking their tea cups together, waiting for me to join them and pour them a nice hot drink. After a while, I would somehow find the courage to get down on the floor, sit at the foot of my bed, and shove pieces of my tea party set past the skirt that draped around the edges of the frame. If I kept the monsters satisfied, they would leave me alone and be on their way by morning, and I'd be able to fall asleep by the time the early pink sunlight would start to paint my curtains. It had helped me realize that if you accommodate the frightening things in life, make friends with them even, that you could stay safe. That you could push the fear off just a little longer and worry about it another day.

Sometimes I think that pushing all of that fear away, all of those monsters, must have been what made me sick. That it all came back to bite me in the ass, the neglect of my childhood needs sharpening the knife that had torn through my life and left me in hospitals doped up on medications I couldn't pronounce. Doctors tried to tell me that it wasn't environmental like I assumed. I couldn't keep track of the times that I was lectured on chemical imbalances in the brain, and how that made a person have symptoms like mine. I just couldn't believe that that was the only reason I had been dumped by my family and left to rot in a place everyone feared and pretended didn't exist. 

My monsters couldn't be satisfied by small plastic teacups or stale cookies anymore. Now they rose up from under the bed and hunched over me while I tried to sleep. 

That's actually what I looked at for hours during my first night at Pine Ridge asylum- a large bony creature looming over me with its eyes locked on my body as it huffed and growled. I didn't dare move, afraid of what might happen although I was well aware that what I was looking at was not real. It's just hard to explain, how something that isn't tangible could still scare you into paralysis in your own damn bed.

What I did was try to shut my eyes and take deep breaths, silently chanting to myself that my friend was not real. He was not real....he was not real....

\--------------------------------------------

In the morning, I was woken up by a nurse banging on the door, mumbling something about breakfast being in ten minutes. I sat up and stretched, cracking my neck in the process. I must have fallen asleep stiff last night, because now I could barely turn my head to the left without a hot sting of pain accommodating the movement.  

"Great...." 

Now, was breakfast going to be given separately to every patient, or was I going to have to wait in line somewhere and get served with all of the other patients? I had experienced both before, enjoying the latter much more than the former. It gave me a chance to get out of my room, and it also gave me a chance to scope out other patients to see what I was dealing with.

Although....I was at Pine Ridge....would I really want to meet the other patients?

The nurse came back around and opened my door, he stood there for a moment before rolling his eyes.

"C'mon chick. Get your ass up and out to the common room." Guess I didn't get a say in if I wanted to socialize or not. I reluctantly got up and put my slippers on, still kind of out of it from waking up. "There ya go. Good girl." 

When I got out into the hallway, the doors at the far right end were splayed open, revealing a large room on the other side. Other patients were already shuffling out of their rooms and into the wide space, a few running eagerly to the nurses that were bringing in carts of food. 

As soon as I saw that most of the patients were older, a pang of loneliness settled in my stomach. I was literally probably the youngest person in this ward, as well as the most put together in terms of sanity. 

I walked into the room, maneuvering around a few couches and tables as I followed the herd to the other nurses. 

"Berry! Get over here! Your oatmeal is on the other table." A sallow looking man swore at the nurse in a screeching tone, sitting down only to spit in the steaming bowl of mush.

I made a mental note to stay away from Berry.

After most of the patients had cleared away from the two nurses, or guards, or cooks or whatever, I walked up to the cart and stared at the food that was offered. There were only two trays left, one containing oatmeal like Berry's, and one with a small box of cereal and milk, along with a little cup of applesauce. It really sucked because I didn't like oatmeal or cereal, but if I didn't eat they'd have a fit and note it in my chart. I had been through that process before, and it was just a bunch of bullshit that I didn't want to deal with. Although, they'd probably just pin me on the floor and shove the food down my throat if I protested here. But that was just an educated guess....

I reluctantly picked up the tray with the cereal, figuring I could just eat the applesauce if I really had to. Now came the hard part. Finding somewhere to sit.

Unfortunately, being in a ward with other people was just like high school. There were different cliques at each table, and picking where to sit pretty much determined who you were and who you'd hang out with for the rest of your stay, or until all of the other people were gone. Contrary to what people might think, I never sat with the other schizos, knowing all too well that they were usually out of hand, if not ridiculously over talkative and twitchy. Yeah....I got like that too sometimes....but still, it wasn't any fun when I was feeling like ripping someone's face off because they couldn't stop talking about the ants that were crawling all over my body.

One quick scan reveled that there was an empty table in the back right corner of the sad but busy grey room, and I spent no time making my way to what I was hoping would be my own little space for the morning. No one would have to talk to me, and I wouldn't have to mentally prepare myself to deal with others. I might have been overreacting, but spending time in 4 different psychiatric wards in three different asylums really seasoned a person.

I sat down with my tray and sighed, not hungry at all. All these other people were mowing down on the food like they hadn't eaten in weeks, making conversation. Some where laughing, some were just chatting, and I was pretty sure that there was someone crying somewhere way over in the other corner if I was hearing correctly.

"Quite an interesting bunch, huh?"

I almost tossed my applesauce cup straight up into the air, completely surprised by the person who was now sitting next to me. I didn't even notice that he had walked over to the table, let alone sat down. He chuckled at my reaction, catching my applesauce cup before it rolled off the table and onto the floor.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you that bad." I glared at the bright-eyed brunette, not amused.

"But you still meant to scare me." He flashed a mischievous smirk, gently setting down the applesauce on my tray.

"Well of course. You're new. It's all about scaring new patients here at Pine Ridge, didn't ya know that?" I rolled my eyes and stood up, ready to go and sit on the couch to eat my breakfast so I didn't have to deal with this freak. It would totally be my luck that the only other twenty-something year old in this batch was an ass hat with a loud voice.

"Where are ya going? Listen, don't be a bummer. I really am sorry that I scared you. It's not my fault that you're not more aware of your surroundings, though. That's on you, sweetheart." I paused.

"Seriously?" I really couldn't believe this guy. Was his mental illness being a turd?

"Seriously. C'mon. Sit down. Or would you rather go sit with Berry over there?" I glanced over at the other couch, which, indeed, now had Berry sitting there grumbling and dumping his oatmeal by the spoonful onto his lap. I guess he had a point. I placed my tray back down in front of me, plopping down in defeat. "There ya go. Name's Sean by the way. But everybody here calls me Jack."

"Hey. I'm Joselyn." The kid still hadn't stopped smiling, his blue eyes sparkling at the fact that he had gotten me to sit back down and actually tell him my name. I was a little surprised myself, to be completely honest. Although, what else was I supposed to do? Could I really have avoided this? I peeled open my applesauce cup, taking care to sniff it before committing to scoop it up and put it in my mouth.

"What, is it poisoned?" I looked sideways at Jack, and chuckled a little.

"No, I don't think so."

"Not this time, anyway." His voice seemed to curl up at the end of his words, an accent that was kind of familiar.

"Are you Irish?"

He clapped his hand on his chest and smiled brightly. "Why yes. Yes I am! Pretty damn proud of it, too." His spry humor was starting to grow on me a little, and I was kind of glad that I hadn't decided to ditch this character of a man. What was he doing here in America, at a shitty creepy asylum nonetheless? He seemed perfectly fine, other than the fact that he seemed to not know how to be quiet. I shoved a mound of applesauce in my mouth, a queasy rumble emitting from my gut. I really wasn't hungry...like at all.

"Well, Irish Jack, do they punish you here if you don't eat breakfast?" I had a little trouble swallowing my food, and my body protested by causing me to gag a little. Applesauce wasn't supposed to be slimy...at least not this slimy. And probably not orange either.

"Not really, no. I mean, if you don't eat the whole day, they'll getchya for it. But I think you can manage to skip a meal or two every so often. The food isn't that great here, I know. If you really want to make it look good, I can eat your cereal for you."

"Well, where is your breakfast?"

"I eat separately most of the time. It's complicated." He shrugged and pulled my tray over, cracking the cereal box open and dumping it into the bowl. Was that part of his thing? Like, his mental problem thing? Eh. It would be rude to ask, probably.

"Well, what if they see you eating my stuff? We'll both get in trouble." He added the milk to the cereal and shook his head, a goofy rumble of a laugh tumbling past his lips.

"Don't worry sweetheart, they don't really pay attention to me. I've been here a while."

"Well, alright then. So....if I hang out with you....will I slip under the radar too?"

"It depends on how good you are at breaking the rules, my dear."


	4. Hell's Basement

"So ward A is the goody two shoes ward then, huh?" Jack nodded his head with a smug smile, delighted with my question.

"Exactly. It's for the people who can't bear to live by themselves, still kind of pose a threat, ya know? But they're completely sane. They don't have episodes and they have people on the outside who come and visit them. It's really a front the place uses to sort of show the state that it's okay to have patients here. Keep us in business if you will." 

"What about our Ward?" My tray had been sitting in front of Jack for about an hour now, while we talked about different things. Now he was giving me a rundown of the asylum, and I was more than eager to know how a place like this didn't get shut down.

"Our ward....well, we're the half-basket ward."

"The what?" The facial features on this kid never ceased to deliver, especially when he'd bite his lip before his mouth could catch up with the gears in his head. It was absolutely entertaining to watch him.

"The half-basket ward. Everyone in here is half a basket case. Only half off the rocker. Normally, everyone in here is fine, but could turn into a completely different person at the flip of a switch. Just your run of the mill bipolars, schizos, borderlines. Nothing too fancy I suppose. Now, C and D? There are some fucked up people in C, and D is a lost cause. D is mainly why we have a bunch of John Cena's running around in scrubs." Jack's voice got lower, and he kept watching out of the corner of his eye to see if the nurses were listening. 

"So D is the real reason this place is still kicking then?" The blue in his eyes glimmered with mischief. 

"Exactly, sweetheart. The government has no other place to put those demons other than the state prison. And they're always full up. We're Hell's basement. This is where people get put when the rest of the world wants them to be forgotten because of what they've done. Or when their family just doesn't give enough of a fuck anymore to try and deal with legal issues."

That sounded about right. Good ol' Gram. 

"That's terrible."

"Oh, but it's not the worst part." I grimaced, not really understanding how much worse a place could get than what he had already told me. I mean, there were murderers here, and I now knew that that was why Ward D existed.

"What is, then?"

"I mean, think about it Joselyn. Can I call you Jo? I'm gonna call you Jo." I rolled my eyes and gestured for him to keep talking. "This place is biiiiig. Very big. Why would they need this much space when all they have is four measly wards?" 

That was a good question actually.... "Okay, I see where you're going with this. There's a lot of extra space. Enough to....I don't know. What else would they do in this building?" 

"Well, they could do a lot of things. Expand the wards, give better accommodations, start a library or something for the patients. But no. They keep it  _empty_. They didn't touch it after the place was initially shut down in the 70's. Do you know why?" 

"Well obviously not. Stop being mister story teller and get to the point. You're making me anxious." There it was again, the sheepish smile, which....which made my cheeks flush red, for whatever reason. 

"They used to do terrible things to patients here. Surgeries, torture....research, they called it. Just like in the horror movies, Jo. Just like in the damn horror movies." 

"So all the extra space?"

"Old hospital type deal. Operating rooms, large wards that were chalk full of way too many patients, and a lot of other rooms that probably existed for a lot worse reasons. And they don't touch it. Too many people died in the other half of this place, it's full of guilt. It makes the air thick and stale, and there's no room to breathe."

I didn't know what to say. I didn't realize or even register that places like that actually existed not 50 years ago. I felt kind of stupid for not knowing about this kind of thing, or at least guessing, and now I was sitting here listening to a fellow patient with my mouth hanging open. I was literally thrown into an old murder factory, in a way. 

"So....so why did they re-open it?" I wrung my hands, real hyped up on this little tidbit of history Jack was feeding me. He was a natural narrator, and he was good at it too. 

"Low budget place to throw crazy people. Everyone kind of turned their heads the other way when it happened, knowing that they were putting people back into a terrible place, but they couldn't just let the large-ass prison stay abandoned. There'd be no profit in that. So now it's a government run asylum again, and people still get thrown in here like pieces of trash, just like they did not so long ago."

I frowned, a little apprehensive.

"How do you know about all of this? You could just be bullshitting me..." Actually, it would make a lot of sense for him to bullshit me. He seemed like that kind of person, and god knew I was gullible enough to believe him. Although, it did make sense. They surely didn't fill up this large brick castle with just four wards, and the place was a shit hole. I had seen enough evidence of that on the way to this ward. 

"The nurses....and first hand experience of course...." He crossed his arms, almost smug about his historical knowledge and well, captive audience.

"What do you mean first hand experience?" 

"I've seen the abandoned part before. Many times actually. At least on this floor and the second floor. Not the basement though."

"Oh how?! The nurses didn't just give you a freaking tour, did they? No, let me guess, you snuck out and snooped around yourself." I chuckled at my own statement until it dawned on me. That's  _exactly_ what he did.... 

Without thinking, I grabbed his thigh with my hand and leaned in towards him.

"You  _have_ to show me! You have to." I wasn't even thinking of the consequences, not even how we were going to be able to get out and see it. All I knew is that I had to see what he was talking about. 

I had made him jump a little, and he froze as he stared down at my hand on his leg. He glanced at me nervously, his ocean eyes a little scared as I slowly released my grip and leaned back.

"Um....sorry. I got excited." He was totally frazzled, still looking at where my hand was a second ago as he replied.

"N-no. It's okay. Just made me jump a little, heh." A meek little grin resurfaced on his face, and I felt myself relax. I really did catch him off guard. Maybe that was part of his thing too. No touching. And I hadn't even thought about the repercussions to touching him in such a nonchalant way. He could have punched me or thrown me half-way across the room, for all I knew. 

"Just count it as getting back at you for scaring me earlier." I crossed my arms, too aware with what I was doing with my hands now. I hadn't meant to make him uncomfortable.

"Sure. No one's ever gotten me back before. You're a special one, Jo." As he shook his head, a nurse walked into the common room and scanned the tables until his eyes landed on me. 

"Scheffer, you got an appointment with Fischbach. Scoot." He gestured for me to leave, and I frowned. I wanted to learn more about the asylum....but I guess I'd see Jack after my little session with McDreamy. 

"Our little conversation isn't over, Jack. You're gonna tell me how to get to that abandoned section." I reluctantly got up and followed the nurse out of the common room, Jack's devilish smile burned into the back of my mind.


	5. Bike Rides

Nurse Billy quickly led me through another maze of hallways until I really couldn't tell where the hell we were in the building. It all looked the same too, dark and and dank, and just plain....gross. And terrifying. And annoying. Did I mention gross?

It really wasn't helping that I was about to be thoroughly interrogated by yet another doctor. Sure, he seemed different, was a lot younger and way more kind than the others. But he was still a doctor. And for all I knew, he was just realllly good at putting up a front for first impressions. For people who didn't know what therapy was like, or I guess, what it _could_ be like, wouldn't understand. There were times when I was in tears, spent and fed up with everything that had been ripped from my mouth, but the doctor would press on, making me feel even more like a messed up freak than I was. That sort of thing built up a defense system in a person, one that was concrete and unforgiving and fault proof. It closed everything that was impossible to bear into a corner in the back of my mind. And when people poked and prodded at it, something terrible came out in response. I referred to her as Joselyn #2, and she was not someone to be reckoned with.

I felt her start to kick as soon as we reached a door with a sign on it that read "Dr. M. Fischbach-Psychiatric Health". Billy banged on the door, and a low, melodic voice on the other side told us to come in. 

Billy opened the door for me, and I walked in to see Mark sitting behind his desk, smile on his face, and clipboard in hand. I figured that my burly nurse was going to follow me in, but instead slammed the door behind me with so much force that I jumped.

"Hello Joselyn. I'm glad to see you today. Although, you don't look well-rested. Are you having a hard time adjusting?" I plopped down in the leather chair across from his desk and shrugged.

"I guess? It's only the first day though. And this place has a reputation. It's a little intimidating to say the least." The doctor chuckled and shook his head, scribbling something down on his paperwork. Now what the hell could he have gotten from that statement?

"I've heard of that reputation for sure. My colleagues from my former place of work all thought I was crazy for wanting to work here. But you'll find soon enough that it isn't as bad as you think. The reputation is only from people who have no interest in helping others. " He sighed and once again started writing. "Anyway, I'd like to learn more about you today. How about you tell me a little bit about yourself as a person. Do you have any favorite hobbies? Maybe books or movies that you like to watch? That sort of thing."

Okay...what? That was sooooooo not what I was expecting. That was a recurring pattern though, at least with McDreamy. My brain had to do a double take, only for it to come up with a dry answer.

"Um. Well, I don't really have any hobbies as of late...because, you know. I've been locked up and watched intensively for while now. One doesn't really get to have hobbies of their own...other than coloring, which seems to be a favorite activity for wards to offer. That is, until someone decides to start eating the crayons..." 

"Hm. Did you have any hobbies before you were hospitalized?" I thought back to having my own place, and my own life, and honestly, I was pretty disappointed with what I came up with. Why did he need to know this anyway? I didn't really want to tell him. 

"Well, I used to ride my bike a lot. To cemeteries. I used to bring a big roll of paper and a stick of colored wax so I could do rubbings of the gravestones. My grandmother probably got rid of them all, but I used to have a huge collection of them at my apartment." More scribbling. 

"What else?"

"I used to watch old black and white films a lot. Cary Grant is one of my favorite actors." 

"Did you have a job?" 

"I worked at a supermarket as a manager." 

"Did you find satisfaction in that line of work?"

"Could anyone really find satisfaction in that line of work? It was mind-numbing. And dep-" No! I needed to shut up. He'd start to pin the reasons on why I was crazy, and I couldn't have that. Especially if they were wrong. 

"And what?" 

"Nothing." He glanced up at me over the rims of his glasses, as if to say ' _I'm not letting that slip, you know.._.'

I looked past him towards a plant in the far corner, and a small ball of heat flew up into my throat when I realized that there were snakes nestled in the midst of the leaves. Jesus Christ.

"Well, did you have any friends?"

"Not really...n-no..." I gripped the arms of the chair, staring down a bright red snake as it slithered down the trunk of the large office plant, and onto the floor and out of sight. 

"How come?"

"I don't like people all that much." He said something else, but I could barely hear him as my ears started to pound. I wanted to pull my legs up off of the floor, afraid that the fiery serpent would find its way over to me and up my ant leg. I kept still though. 

"Joselyn?" My attention snapped back to Mark.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" 

"I said, I hope you'll still give me a chance." The jarring view of the snake had shattered any barrier my head had been preventing me from completely opening up, and all I knew how to do now was blurt exactly what came to mind. 

"Now why would I do that? You're my doctor. I don't necessarily like to get warm up to the people who decide I need to stay locked up."

Woops. 

To my surprise, a considerate expression came over his face, and he shrugged.

"Fair enough, I suppose." 

"Wait, really? Well, I mean, I  _am_ surprised with you thus far. You're more human than I expected. But I definitely didn't expect that you'd agree with my crass statements."

"You think what you say is crass?" He set his pen down and laced his fingers together, making direct eye contact with me. Damn, his eyes were nice. 

"Well, I mean, to you it must be." I was still aware that the snake must be somewhere on the floor in the small office, but I was too afraid to make it obvious that I was hallucinating at the moment, because surely, Mark would order some sort of brain-melting drug to help subdue it. And I wanted to stay coherent, thank you very much.

"No. I just think you're being honest."

"Well, how about we keep going with your questions? Then you can decided if I'm just being honest."

"Alright then. That's the first time one of my patients has actually insisted that I keep going with their session." He picked his pen back up and straightened his glasses, looking very studious as he resumed being Mr. Doctor Man. "By the way, whatever you're hallucinating at the moment, I can assure you, is not real. Take a deep breath Joselyn."

So I guess I kind of sucked at the acting calm thing.

"Questions, Doctor, the questions." 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

After another half hour of conversation with Mark, Billy was called back up to escort me back to my room. I didn't stay there long, though, because about half the patients, all girls including me, were escorted to the showers. They resembled what high school gym showers were like, just two long rows of curtained compartments where just a slimy old shower head was present. I was hoping to god that there was warm water. 

I was given a small bottle of soap, shampoo, and a toothbrush and toothpaste. Some patients only got a small cup of soap, and I was assuming it was because they couldn't be trusted with a solid and potentially dangerous object such as a measly toothbrush. And I was going to be showering with my back towards them. Cool. 

I stripped down and slung my clothes over the curtain, along with a small towel that had been placed there by one of the nurses. When I turned the water on, I almost screamed because it was so hot. I fumbled with the knob, trying to figure out how to change the temperature, which proved fruitless. 

I scalded myself for about ten minutes before someone started yelling to wrap it up. I quickly turned off the water and grabbed the towel, gently patting my red skin before sliding on my dirty clothes. I wondered if I'd be getting some of my own clothes from the last ward I had been in any time soon, and figured that it probably wasn't urgent enough for my stuff to be shipped until a later date. Luckily, when we got back, there was a fresh white t-shirt and blue pajama pants waiting for me on my bed. I quickly changed and headed back out to the common room, already scanning the space for Jack. 

 

 


	6. Quick lil Update

Hello everyone,

 

...that feels weird to say, haha. So, if you haven't guessed by now, I'm new to the whole writing stories thing. At least online, that is. I'm very glad that everyone is liking this story so far though, at least it seems like that. It means a lot to me that people are leaving kudos and stuff, and I just want to say thank you for that.

I also want to say that I'm sorry for the last chapter, I know it was kind of shit, but I'm not going to lie, I was kind of hurrying to get it done. I don't want you guys to think that I'm not updating the story, it's just hard to figure out what I want to happen so early on. I am planning for this to be about the length of an actual novel, and I want to be able to space out important parts accordingly. If anyone has any suggestions or comments, I will gratefully accept them! :)

So anyway, thanks again for taking the time to check this story out, and I promise it will start getting spooky very very soon! (I also promise to improve the quality and length of the chapters. Baby steps, I suppose). 

 

With all my love,

LostAndFoundLenore

 

 


	7. Chairs and Checkers

The next couple days went on the same as the last, creating a concrete platform for what would probably come to be my natural routine. Get up, eat breakfast, talk with Jack and avoid everyone else, shower, recreation, dinner, try to sleep with people screaming and laughing and whatever else.

I hadn't seen Dr. Fischbach since I went to his office, the only other place I had ventured out to in the large expanse of Pine Ridge. It was a lot more tame than I figured it would be, the frightening things were either part of the building itself, the actions of the patients, or my own stupid hallucinations. Which were pretty mild, considering I had just been thrown into a new place. It didn't mean that I wasn't lonely though. I was still seeing things no one else could. Feeling things that no one else could.

Sometimes I would hallucinate nasty characters, which was what I was expecting. They'd growl and scream, crawl along the ceiling, and sneak up under my blanket. Sometimes I'd have to scramble off the bed and onto the floor, or get up and stand on my toilet while things slithered around beneath me and deal with the fact that no one could help me get away from them.  I also got the wicked sensation that someone was watching me intently, and I chalked it up to the possibility that there was a hidden camera somewhere in my cell. It would make a lot of sense, especially because nurses had to keep track of patients somehow, and they couldn't just stand in the doorways and stare them down the whole night. 

The most peculiar things were the smallest though. I'd hear knocking on the walls, and sometimes I'd hear breathing. I'd feel fingertips touch my face or tug at the edges of my blanket. And sometimes I'd watch my chair move itself until it would face the bed. 

And when I woke up, it would still be there like that.

I figured maybe, hopefully, I had somehow just moved it myself. Or maybe....no. Ghosts weren't real. It had to be me.  

Either way, it was unnerving, and I didn't like it. There was really nothing I could do though. Other than tell Jack about it.

"So you feel someone touching your cheek?" Jack was staring intently at the checker board between us, rubbing his stubbly chin.

"Yes. And I don't usually...hallucinate like that? Can you hallucinate sensations? I don't even know. But it's not violent or anything. It's just...there. Which is sometimes more freaky than it being wild like the...other things." He slid a black checker piece forward with a pale finger. It was in a way, calming to watch him. I was quickly realizing that even the mere presence of Jack shaved away some of the cold loneliness I felt here.  

"Other things, huh? I'm truly surprised to know that you are a schizo. I was totally pinning you to be a bipolar. Or super antisocial and sociopathic or something." I scoffed.

"Uh...you...oh whatever. I'm not going to comment on that. What do you think of the touching though?" I picked up my red checker piece and jumped two of his, stacking them to the side of the board. Jack really sucked at checkers. 

He sighed and covered his face, peeking through the cracks of his fingers at me. 

"Do you believe in ghosts, Jo?" I glared at him, not too happy about the coincidence that he just presented. Surely ghosts weren't real.

"Not necessarily, no. I already have to worry about things that aren't there. I don't want to worry about things that could be there." 

"You should think about it." He moved another checker piece. 

"Why?"

"You're silly if you're in a place like this and don't believe in ghosts. They're obviously real. I've seen them." 

"Oh really? Where?" I moved one of my pieces, although I could have jumped Jack again. It just didn't seem fair to beat him so quickly even though it was so tempting.

"The old wing. They lurk. They linger." I looked behind me to see one of the nurses in the doorway, glancing over the room. We had a limited time with the board games, and I could tell that that time was almost up. 

"You still haven't told me how to get there. Or at least how YOU got there."

"That's a secret. Don't worry though, you'll find out soon enough." Did that mean he was going to show me? I was still clueless as to how he got past the nurse's station without them noticing him. Or even how he got out of the ward in the first place. 

He slid a checker piece into another terrible place, and I rolled my eyes, I couldn't take it. 

"You really suck at this, you know that, right? I've been trying to give you a chance but you just keep making terrible moves." Jack crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair, just looking at me intently with his baby blue orbs. After a few seconds, I shifted in my seat, a little uneasy with his stare. I could feel my cheeks starting to burn. "...What? What is it?" 

"Oh....nothing I suppose. I just wanted to see you blush again. It's so easy to make you do that." Oh my. I frowned, and looked the other way, not really sure what to say or do. "See? It's just getting worse!"

After a moment, I looked back at him without taking my eyes off his face while I jumped  _four_ of his checker pieces, and then stuck my tongue out at him. 

"Don't mess with me, McLoughlin. I'll take you down." 

"Well, you'll have to wait til next time because lovely nurse Billy butthead is about to come in here and call for you." 

"You're kidding, right?" 

"Nope. In three, two, one...." 

As soon as Jack was done with his countdown, Billy walked in and immediately found me.

"Scheffer."

I knew what that meant. It was time to go see the doctor, and I was concerned....but I couldn't pin why. I mean, on one hand, I hadn't seen him in...what? Two days? Was something wrong? Or should I have been concerned about the fact that he wanted to see me now? I didn't really know what to think, so I just stood up and followed Billy out of the Ward. 

I still hadn't memorized the winding route to Dr. Fischbach's office, and the anticipation of getting there was really bothering me today. I was convincing myself really easily that I had done something wrong, but what could I have done? As far as I knew, I had been keeping myself below the radar with Jack and totally out of the way. Like I said, it had only been a few days...

We showed up at Mark's office, and Billy shoved me in there without hesitation, slamming the door behind me again. Mark was waiting with a smile on his face.

"Hello Joselyn." I hesitated before sitting down...still a little uneasy.

"Hey...um....what's up?"

"Oh nothing. Just a routine checkup."

"Um...okay."

"So, how are things?"

"Uh....what?" I rubbed my forehead. This guy really had my mind in a twist.

"Just...how's it going?" His tone was so sincere, curiosity mixed with a relaxed manner.

"Um...well....uh. I don't know. Do you want medical information, like what I've been hallucinating, or do you really want to shoot the shit?" He quietly hummed a low chuckle, shifting in his chair so he was leaning to the side on his desk.

"What do _you_ want to tell me?" 

"Well, how about this. I'm tired. And the food sucked this morning." I couldn't think of what else to say. My chest was tight, and I couldn't be all casual with him. He was my  _doctor_. Doctors were supposed to be detached and cold and careless. That's just how they were. Maybe he was so nice because he was so young? He probably hadn't seen anything bad yet....although he was at Pine Ridge. 

"Are you tired because you couldn't sleep?" Before I answered, I noticed that his little notepad and pen weren't on his desk, which was odd.

"Where's your notepad?" He glanced down underneath his hands and smiled at me. 

"I don't always need it. I thought today we could just chat. Unless you want me to write everything down. It seemed to make you nervous though, and I want you to feel comfortable with me." I shook my head, not really sure how to react. 

"You'll have to excuse me. I'm just not used to doctors being so concerned about how I feel. You've been confusing me since I got here. Everyone I've seen before you has been cold, angry, or just downright rude." He nodded his head as though he understood, taking a deep breath before he spoke.

"Listen, I know that. I really do. That's why I try to be different. I try to actually help people and let them know that they're people like everyone else, instead of making them just feel like numbers. You're one of the first patients to actually say something about it, or even respond to how I am though. I was starting to think that what I was doing wasn't helping anyone."

"Don't get cocky now. You haven't helped me in any way yet." A challenging smile spread across Mark's face.

"Oh really? Well that'll change soon enough. I have some interesting treatment ideas in store for you." What treatments were they performing here anyway?

"Speaking of treatment, what do you guys do for patients here? Like, what's the most common type of therapy?" 

He frowned, his chocolate brown eyes getting a little dark. "Listen, Joselyn, I want to be able to tell you that, but I don't want you to get the wrong assumptions. I also don't want you to think that I agree with everything we do here at Pine Ridge."

"Well, what do you do here then?" It was silent in the room for a few moments, until Mark looked away and began his confession.

"We do electroshock therapy here. Even though it's supposed to be humane now, I still don't believe in it. We also sedate most of our patients into oblivion. It's cruel, and I'm trying to change that, but Dr. Weber, our other doctor here, won't listen to my suggestions and he has authority over me." I could see the pain Mark was feeling by the expression on his face, distraught and frustrated. I was starting to feel bad for him, he really seemed like he tried so hard to do the right thing, but he was just one person. It would take a whole lot more to change how things went in a huge asylum like this. "I shouldn't be telling you these things though."

"Why not?"

"You're supposed to be talking to me. Not the other way around....heh." His pained expression melted into something akin to worry. "Plus I don't want you to think that I would ever let that happen to you. None of my patients go through any inhumane treatment. I can promise you that."

I was pleased with his sincerity. I was starting to feel like maybe this whole thing would be different, and maybe...just maybe, I could start getting better.

"I believe you. And it's okay if you talk to me too. If you would have just talked down to me for all of our sessions, then we'd have a problem. I'm willing to give this whole therapy thing a try though, if this is how it will be."

"That sounds wonderful, Joselyn. Now, we should actually probably get back to the reason as to why you're tired. I don't need you walking around here like a zombie, now that I know there's someone here who's willing to work with me."

"Well, it's just been the hallucinations. They keep me up at night, and I can't sleep at all."

 

I decided I shouldn't tell him about the chair. 

 

 


	8. Quick Confessions

"Y-Yeah. My Grandma isn't the nicest person. I just...we don't get along. We never have."

"Is she just bitter?" I had been in Mark's office for two hours now, rambling on about things that I had promised myself I would never talk about. I was amazed. Something had just seemed to click with Dr. Fischbach. We were just talking. He just listened. Now who the fuck would figure that there was actually a doctor out there like that? That just....just talked? He didn't break eye contact with me as I thought about what to say next. 

"Well, she's more...numb. Do you know what I mean?" I twisted my hands in my lap, an all too familiar ball of unpleasant heat billowing up into my chest. My Grandma was a sore subject. 

"Not really, no. I mean, I understand how a person can be numb, but how was she like that to you?"

"Uh...well...I have an example, but it's kind of embarrassing." The heat spread up into my throat, but Mark nodded, urging me to go on. "When I was about 9, we were going through a really rough patch. I never listened to her, and she never listened to me. I had always been more of a chore to her, than a granddaughter. But anyway, one day, I had thrown a fit about something...I don't even remember what...but d-during all of my screaming and shouting, I think something just snapped inside of her. She just grabbed my arm and led me to the broom closet in the kitchen and locked me in there. I stayed in there for I don't know how long, but when she let me out, it was dark. And that was probably the first time I was ever actually really scared of her. I mean...who shuts their grandchild in a closet while they cry and scream for you? And after that....it just happened whenever I got angry or upset. Til I was like 12 or something." 

During my story, I had watched Mark's face morph into a pitiful grimace, his lip turned up in some sort of subtle snarl. I didn't know if I should have been pleased with such a reaction, but it definitely helped me believe that my blurting was more justified. 

"Did you ever tell anyone?"

"Nope. You're the first one. I'm actually pretty surprised I told you. Surely you've heard worse in a place like this....?" 

Mark sighed. "No matter what I have heard, it does not mean that your situation was not terrible. You did not deserve treatment like that. At all."

"I mean, it was fine. I got used to it after a while, and it really didn't bother me by the time it stopped. I still did well in school. I still had friends. My Grandma just wasn't one of them." I tried to reassure him.

"Joselyn, you don't have to try and brush off what she did. Your Grandmother was a bad person for doing that. That's not normal."

"I know it's not normal, but it's not the reason I'm in here, if that's what you're trying to get at." He leaned back in his chair and put his hands up in surrender, shaking his head.

"Nononono, that's not what I'm saying, or thinking. I was just stating how I felt about it. We can talk about something else though, if you want. You never did tell me about any of your hobbies other than grave rubbings." 

\------------------------------------------------------------

 

Nurse Billy shoved me back into the common room, using more force than normal. Obviously he wasn't pleased that he had to wait so long for me to be finished talking with Mark. I contemplated turning around and sticking my tongue out at him for a hot second, but I decided that I liked being upright and not in a choke-hold. 

"Hey missy!" My eyes flitted to the corner of the room with the recliners, and there sat Jack, his feet up on the small coffee table between the two bulky chairs.

 

Funny, I hadn't seen him there just a second ago.

 

I made my way through two small crowds of patients all laughing with each other as they huddled together. They kept glancing over their shoulders towards the outer hallway and the nurse's station...which was...a little concerning to say the least, but the feeling was quickly replaced with excitement as I finally made it over to Jack.

"Hi."

"What in the hell took ya so long?" I sat down in the chair facing Jack, and shrugged.

"I was just talking with Dr. Fischbach."

"For  _three_ hours?" His tone was curious, but also....something else? I couldn't really pin what it was, but I was almost convinced it was anger?

"Well, yeah. I got to talking, and I just couldn't stop. It wasn't even like a counseling session. We kind of just talked about everything." 

"Awww...look at you, making friends with Fishy boy." His sneer was so animated I started giggling.

"Fishy boy?"

"Yeah." 

"Somebody doesn't like the doctor then..." I leaned back in my chair and put my feet up on the coffee table, far from meeting Jack's because my legs were so short. As soon as I put mine up though, he quickly slid his off, sitting up and crossing his legs.

"No. I don't."

"Well how do you talk to him then?"

"I don't."

"Well, who do you talk to then?" I stomped my feet back down on the floor, a little offended that Jack didn't like Mark for whatever reason. I mean, he could like and hate whoever he wanted, but Mark seemed like such a good guy. At least, _now_ he did. 

"I talked- errr, _talk_ to Dr. Weber. He's not great either, but he doesn't bullshit patients with the whole 'equality' thing. He acts like a doctor. He's in charge, and that's why he's so successful with his patients."

"How come you talk to him and not Dr. Fischbach?"

"You want me to tell you the reason?" As soon as the words had left his mouth, something changed. And I knew it was cheesy, but Jack seemed to change too. He looked.... different. It was so abrupt, it threw me off guard, and I didn't really know if I wanted to say yes. It was almost as if he was challenging me, daring me to say it or something. 

"Um, yeah." His ocean eyes got huge, and his smirk turned into a large smile, bearing all of his teeth in a disconcerting way.

"I used to be a patient in Ward D." 

 

I swallowed hard. 

If what Jack said about Ward D was true, then there was no way he could be sitting here now in Ward B with me. At least, it seemed like there was no way. 

"But-....?" 

He barked a laugh, running one of his pale hands through his grey-flecked hair in an anxious manner. 

"But what? How am I sane enough to be here? LOTS of therapy. I am one of Weber's Miracles. Although, it wasn't fun. I was fried like a fuckin fish for a while there, at least until I was coherent enough to listen to the doctor tell me how things were supposed to be. I'll never earn a get-out-of-jail-free card though. I'm stuck here. Just in case."

I bit my lip, crossed and uncrossed my legs, and dug my fingernails into the arms of my chair. 

 

"Okay."

 

Jack's devilish smile fell off his face and was replaced with an expression of utter confusion. He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly shut it and just looked at me.

"What? I said okay."

"I know. I wasn't expecting that."

"If you want me to be honest, neither did I....Can I ask you a question?" I kept my nails embedded in the fabric of my seat.

Jack looked down at his lap. "Go ahead Jo."

"What are you diagnosed with?" 

"I was never diagnosed with anything. Not a thing. I guess I'm just....crazy."

What started out as fear quickly melted into sympathy. I could hear the desperate sadness, the longing in his voice. When you're crazy, you want a label. You want to know why you're like that. Jack never got the satisfaction of knowing why he was in here. He was simply in here, and stuck too. 

"Damn."

"I know, trust me. Now I have a question for you." When Jack's gaze reconnected with mine, I swore that he looked more pale, and quite weak, as though he hadn't slept in days.

"Okay."

"Are you going to ignore me now? I never planned on telling you any of this."

"I've only been here for what? Like a week? And you were kind enough to save me from having to hang out with all of these lunatics." I gestured to the pajama clad patients running around the common room. "I'm definitely not going to ignore you. You're like.....my friend now."

"Friend?"

"Yeah. Friend, you idiot."

 

 

 


	9. Higher Ground

As I laid in bed that night, waiting for the hallucinations and voices to start, I thought about Jack and what he had told me today. 

He had been a patient in Ward D.

Now, besides the initial shock of finding that out, I'd be lying through my teeth if I said I wasn't insanely curious. From what I had gathered about Pine Ridge on my own and from Jack's stories so far, Ward D was exclusively for the criminally insane. Obviously that had to mean that Jack had committed some sort of crime to land him in here, and it had to be so bad that he had to be imprisoned in some sort of way. Now what in the hell could he have done?

Should I have even kept talking to him after he told me? What else was I supposed to do? We were both stuck in Ward B together and even if I did decide to pretend he didn't exist, he'd still be in the same room as me for twelve hours each day. And I had told him he was my friend, which, don't get me wrong, was true. I had become friends with Jack. But...I had come to that conclusion pretty quickly.

That wasn't out of the ordinary though, for people in psych wards to quickly find other people to stick with. Friends were either quickly made in a place like this, or they weren't made at all. There wasn't really time for formalities or dinner parties or hanging out at each other's houses. If you found somebody you could tolerate and talk to, that meant you were friends. Surely Jack had the same view on that, right? He'd been here a while he said. But how much of that time had been spent in Ward D versus Ward B?

I was thinking about this way too hard. 

Jack was a patient and so was I. We talked, played checkers, and made fun of other patients together. He helped curb some of the loneliness I felt, and in turn, he seemed to enjoy the company of another person just as much as I did. That was enough. 

I turned onto my side and sighed, a little frustrated with myself for thinking about it in such detail. It wasn't that important anyway. I didn't ever worry about that kind of thing in any other ward, so I shouldn't start now. 

I needed to focus on the fact that I was getting somewhere with Dr. Fischbach.

For the first time since I had been institutionalized, there was a doctor who cared about his patients and their lives. He was so... _different_. He had gotten me to open up about my Grandmother, of all things. Now that really took some magic. And hopefully....hopefully, it would make a difference in my sickness. It would make enough of a difference to maybe....

Now I was being _too_ optimistic.

"Shut up brain...."

I mumbled to myself and tossed onto my other side, rubbing my tired eyes in the process.

When I opened them back up, I noticed the notorious chair was right facing away from the desk...but it wasn't as close to the bed as it usually got. I quickly propped myself up on one of my elbows and glared at it, ready to fly to the opposite corner of the room if it moved while I was watching it. 

Not a second later, I heard crumbling behind me, up in the air, followed by a gurgling, bubbling noise. I swallowed and looked back at the wall, to find a large crack forming through the white concrete bricks. Through it, dark, viscous liquid started to ooze out, sliding down the wall in separate tendrils as it reached eagerly for my bed.

Fear rushed through my torso and down through the bones in my legs, causing me to jump up out of my bed as I watched the goo finally touch the mattress I was just laying on.

"Oh..."

I wanted to scream, and I wanted to cry, but all I was able to do was stand, eyes wide open, as the thick substance quickly swallowed my bed and crawled along the floor. 

Willing myself to close my eyes, I could hear the bubbling get louder as I chanted to myself.

"I-t's not real...it's not real...it....it...." 

It wasn't working. The low gurgling just got louder as it started to reach for my bare feet, the dark little vein-like tendrils reaching out like small fingers. 

I didn't know what to do. I had never had this type of hallucination, and as crazy as it might sound....I was starting to think that this one might actually be able to hurt me. I started backing up further, well aware that I would hit the wall and just be trapped against it, when I felt something hard hit the back of my knees. I glanced behind me, quickly realizing that it was the desk chair. It had moved again, although I hadn't heard it or seen it happen. I didn't really care though, because at least now I could climb on top of it and hope that the sludge wouldn't consume it while I stood on it. 

I hopped up on the seat and choked back a dry sob as I watched the slimy substance crawl beneath the four wooden legs that were holding me up. It started to rise around them, and I yelped as I watched it reach the seat....

but it didn't go any higher than that. In fact, the longer I watched it, the more it seemed like it was retreating, going backwards towards the bed. 

My breath caught in my throat, my whole body shivering from fear. Could it be backing off? The dark sludge started to recede even further, going back the way it came. 

Through the fright, curiosity started to find it's way into the spotlight, and I crouched on the chair to get a closer look at the slime as it pulled off of my mattress and slid back up the wall. I was still afraid to get off the chair though, just in case the black goo decided to come back. 

A few moments later, the goo was completely gone, although the large crack in the wall still loomed over the bed. My breathing finally returned to normal, and I even dared to put my feet on the ground. I had honestly been expecting it to be sticky, or damp or something, but the smooth tile was dry and cold, normal. 

"W-what the actual fuck...." I mumbled to myself as I cautiously stumbled toward the bed, my eyes glued to the wall. This had been the most vivid hallucination I had had in a while, and it was definitely a doozy...if it had been a hallucination? 

I climbed up on the bed and begrudgingly inspected the jagged crack in the wall, which seemed to actually be real. I was still too scared to touch it, but it just seemed so blunt, and pale. My hallucinations usually were characterized by bright vivid and sharp colors, loud noises. This destruction to the wall was too pale, blended in too well with the surroundings to actually be something that only I could see. I reached out for a moment, thinking maybe I should touch it. Prove to myself that it wasn't real and that this was just another episode. But a small part of me told my hand to back off, and to just lie down. 

The black goo wasn't coming back.

But it had definitely, actually been here.


	10. Just Another Update, Darlings.

Hey everyone!

I am sososososososososo terribly sorry it took me months to finally get another chapter out, but life happens I guess. I'm back in school and I'm in a good place right now, so more stuff should be coming your way as long as I have time on the weekends to write. I still have many goodies in store for this story, I promise!  
Once again, thank you for being so supportive! 

Love you all!


	11. Scrambled

"Hey! I'm not gonna say it again! Get up!"

Warm sweaty hands gripped my shoulders and yanked me out of my bed before I could even understand or realize that I was awake. 

"What the-...!" I was almost thrown half way across the room, stumbling and running into the wall across from my bed. What the hell was going on?

"Now get your ass out to the common room. Lazy." A nurse, who I had never seen the likes of before now, stomped out of my room to the next, while I stood there shivering from the shocking wake up call I had just been served. How the fuck was that even legal? He had literally shoved me across the room, head first into the wall.

The wall.

I glanced up to where the ceiling met the wall above my bed, and gasped. 

The crack was still there.

I shot back towards my bed and slipped on my shoes before making a hasty exit towards the common room. I wasted no time, scanning the room for Jack while still shivering. I couldn't find him right away, so I scuffed up to the breakfast carts and picked out a tray of watery scrambled eggs and burnt toast to pretend to eat while I waited for him to appear. Where could he be?

I sat down at our table and stared at the food, trying to stop my shuddering from earlier. How many times had the nurse tried to wake me up before physically picking me up out of my bed? I must have been in such a heavy sleep that I hadn't heard him. How odd.

A pair of legs slid into the seat next to me, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"You chose scrambled eggs? I'm sorry, but you're gonna have to eat those yourself sweetheart. I don't do runny chicken embryos." Jacket pulled a hoodie on over his head and stretched theatrically before finally looking up at my face. His features morphed into concern almost immediately. "You look like ya've seen a ghost Jo. Are you okay?" 

I swallowed hard and looked down at my tray again. 

"Uh, I don't know. I mean, who was the nurse on wake up rounds this morning?"

"I dunno. Why?"

"I think he's new. Or at least new on ward B. He was kind of rough this- well- I uh, agh....it doesn't matter. I'm just being a wimp. I guess." I picked up my toast and took a small bite of it, coughing when the burnt scent made its way to my nose. I kind of regretted complaining to Jack, so I cut my sentence of in an attempt to conceal it. It was a shitty attempt.

"Did he do something to you Jo?" 

"No, he just scared me when he woke me up. That's why I'm shaky I guess." I stared at the toast in my hand, the crack in the wall coming back to my thoughts. I started shaking a little harder. How the fuck could it still be there?

Jacks pale fingers carefully pulled the toast out of my grip and set it back down on the tray.

"Jo, you're acting more than just a little wacky. Is....is this because of what I told you yesterday?" 

"What? No! No, of course not. I just...I had a really bad hallucination last night. Or a nightmare, or something. I'm just a little jostled, that's all." I picked up my carton of orange juice and set it down in front of Jack. "Please don't think that what you told me changed anything between us. It's fine." 

He pushed the orange juice back towards me, watching me with careful, stormy ocean-colored eyes.  

"What did you hallucinate?" After pushing the orange juice in front of the tray, he picked up the plate and fork and started scooping the eggs into his mouth. 

"I thought you didn't like eggs." He stopped chewing for a second and shrugged.

"I'll take one for the team. This time. Now answer my question." I grabbed the orange juice and opened it, taking care to sniff it before taking a swig. The cold juice was calming as it slid down my throat. It actually tasted good, which was a first for the food here. 

"Well, like I said, I don't know if it was a hallucination or a dream I guess. But it was like....tendrils. Black tendrils coming from the wall above my ceiling. It was terrifying. They just grew and grew, and-" A small chill made me shudder again, and I just decided to stop talking. I almost felt like I wanted to cry all of a sudden, but I didn't want Jack to see me act so weird. 

"Have you ever seen anything like that before?" Jack had stopped eating, and was staring solemnly at the half eaten food in front of him.

"N-No. Not really. I don't know. I've seen lots of things, this just-"

"Just what?" He slowly looked up at me.

"Just seemed....so real." The words came out quiet, but I knew I needed to say them. Jack locked gazes with me.

"There are a lot of things that don't seem real in this place. You should know that sometimes, they still are." His eyes seemed to darken as he spoke, my throat closing as he stared at me. 

"You aren't h-helping me feel any better Jack. My hallucinations aren't real." It seemed like an eternity before Jack broke his stare and chuckled under his breath, scooping another pile of eggs into his mouth.

"I know. I just like fuckin' with ya."

"Ugh!" I shoved the orange juice carton away from me and got up, a little pissed. Jack picked the wrong time to mess around. I stormed out to the nurse's center, and banged on the glass.

Nurse Billy jumped and swiveled around in his chair, and smiled when he saw it was me trying to get his attention. 

"What can I do ya for, sweetie?" It took all I had not to roll my eyes. 

"I want to see Dr. Fischbach."

"Do you have an appointment with him today?" Nurse Billy reached around himself to grab a book and started leafing through it, concentration set in his brow.

"I-I don't know. Is there any way I can see him like now? Or at least soon?" I couldn't stand to be around Jack while he decided to make a joke of my fears and hallucinations.

"Well...." he leafed a couple more pages and then sighed, "..I guess you can see him now. He goes on his rounds in a half hour, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind talking to you if it's urgent, honey bunch." 

"Yes, yes, that's fine. Okay. Please take me to see him." 


	13. NOT A CHAPTER, JUST AN UPDATE

Hiiiii Everybody!

 

First of all, I want to say that I am so sorry for falling off the face of the Earth. I actually went through a great bout of depression and other things, and ended up in a psych ward myself. I am out now though and feeling a LOT better. I am going to be writing as much as I can from now on, although I can't promise a set update schedule. At my college, we have three terms instead of two semesters, and the third term is always filled with fun classes and free days as well. That is when I'll most likely start up a good schedule, but for now I'll try to get a chapter up in the next few weeks. Thank you so much for sticking with me and giving me comments of encouragement. It's very helpful for me and means so much. I hope you all are doing well!

 

Thank you,

 

LostAndFoundLenore


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